A Thousand Years of Stillness: The Lesson of the Mountain Hermit

This is a record of an interview with Zhu Changhe, a practitioner who lived 1,300 years ago. After centuries of wandering in the heavenly realms, he sought deliverance at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. He now resides in the Western Land of Dharma Nature. This account was recorded by the chief writer, Shi Faru, on March 2, 2026.

Zhu Changhe speaks:

"Namo Amituofo. I am Zhu Changhe. I have never known such a peaceful, unburdened existence as I do now. Although I am currently practising within the Western Land of Dharma Nature, the life I lead here is vastly superior to the difficult, arduous days I endured in the past. Compared to the life in the heavenly realms or the realms of the immortals, this place is infinitely more relaxed and joyful. To be able to practise in such a magnificent environment, and to truly achieve a breakthrough in my spiritual attainment—it is truly inconceivable. For those of us who practised in such austere and lonely conditions back then, this is something almost impossible to believe.

I was a practitioner from 1,300 years ago. In that era, the practice of sitting meditation was highly prevalent. I was an elder residing among the Changbai Mountains. I call myself an 'elder' because I began my spiritual journey quite late in life. In my youth, I was a merchant. I experienced too many of life's joys and sorrows, the coldness and warmth of human relationships, and the dramatic ups and downs of business. By the time I reached old age, I found myself with nothing to show for it—a hollow existence.

A Late Start on the Path

I began my practice at the age of forty-five. Although I was already middle-aged, by the time I had developed even a slight degree of meditative concentration, I was already well into my sixties. Starting late did not dampen my determination. Having walked through the 'flowers and grasses' of the mundane world—the trivialities and attachments of life—I had lost all interest in them. If there truly existed a path to liberation, I was willing to let go of everything to practise.

Initially, I stayed at a temple at the foot of the Changbai Mountains. I began by serving as a lay supporter, just to test the waters and understand what 'practice' truly meant. I observed the monks in the temple; they were so calm and serene. I was particularly struck by their meditation skills. I did not fully understand it at the time, but I could feel a state of profound, absolute stillness. Hearing the masters speak of the realms reached through meditation filled me with curiosity. I wondered, 'Could I experience the same?' I began to stay at the temple, gradually becoming familiar with the daily routines and lessons. Two years later, with the encouragement of the masters, I became a monk and formally began my study of meditative concentration.

I had been a travelling merchant, so I was accustomed to having no fixed abode. I did not need to 'let go' of much; being alone was a state I found quite natural. Without worldly entanglements or ties to friends, my practice proceeded quite smoothly. Very quickly, I progressed from being unable to sit still for long to being able to meditate for fifteen minutes, then thirty. A few years later, I could sit for several hours, just like the others. I would not dare call this a remarkable achievement, but at my age, I was satisfied. At the very least, I was keeping pace with the others, and I felt that my decision to become a monk had not been in vain.

The Trap of Spiritual Pride

During my time at the temple, life was disciplined. I followed my daily practice and performed manual labour. Seeing that I had adapted well, my master suggested that I go into the mountains to meditate, to see if I could elevate my practice further. I trusted his advice, so I ventured deep into the mountains, searching for a suitable place to sit.

At first, I meditated in a mountain cave. After a few days, heavy rain caused the cave to flood, so I moved to a spot beneath a cliff, where the vegetation was dense and very secluded. I continued my meditation there. Without realising it, my spirit began to leave my body, ascending to the first and second heavenly realms. Although the time I spent in deep meditative states was not long, being far away from the crowds allowed me to make some progress.

As I continued to improve, I could enter a state of deep meditation for an entire day, and I could reach the fourth heavenly realm. Looking down at the entire mountain range from the heavens, I could see areas invisible to the physical eyes. A sense of arrogance began to rise in my heart. At the time, I vaguely knew that I should not feel this way, but I did not pay much attention to it. At sixty years of age, having achieved a small measure of success, I thought a little pride was harmless. Unfortunately, it was precisely these attachments to my meditative states that caused my practice to stagnate. Until the very last time my spirit left my body, my level of attainment remained the same; there was no significant improvement. This is my greatest regret. I now understand that without the guidance of a master and a true spiritual friend, it is very difficult to notice or adjust the deviations in one's practice. I simply remained in the fourth heavenly realm, entering and exiting meditation, watching the world go by.

A Golden Light Beyond the Heavens

As centuries passed, the magnetic field of the Changbai Mountains slowly began to change. Every time I emerged from meditation, I was curious about what had changed in the world. I would look east and west, which was proof enough that my meditative concentration was insufficient. I discovered that the once-serene magnetic field had become chaotic and muddled, and the source of this chaos was the heart of every person.

I did not understand why the hearts of modern people had changed so drastically. A place of seclusion should be a place of purity and peace, yet there were no truly pure practitioners to be found. Looking out, from the first to the fourth heavenly realm, there were not many modern practitioners. The youngest among them had been there for hundreds of years. This worried me. Was the Buddha’s teaching in decline, or were there forces interfering with practice? With my level of skill, I could not see through to the essence of this problem.

After observing, I returned to my meditation, waiting for the next opportunity to emerge. During my final meditation, I saw a realm enveloped in golden light. It was a sight I had not seen in over a thousand years. I assumed my level of attainment had finally improved, so without a second thought, I remained in meditation, focusing on this golden light.

One day, the golden light suddenly shone with immense brilliance, startling me out of my meditation. I emerged to look, and the entire heavenly realm—even the surface of the earth, the human world, and all living beings—was shrouded in this golden light. Countless golden Buddhas were emitting light in every space, and one of them was in the very space I occupied. Seeing the Buddha, as a disciple of the Buddha, I instinctively knelt and bowed, chanting, 'Namo Amituofo.' In an instant, the great Buddha and I were transported to a much brighter world.

The True Meaning of Selflessness

The golden light here was brighter than that of the fourth heavenly realm, yet it was incredibly gentle. The practitioners here all appeared to have very high levels of attainment; wearing pure white robes and adorned with light, they looked like celestial beings of a very high order. Later, I learned that this was the Western Land of Dharma Nature at the Hsiang Kuang Pure Land Buddhist Centre in Australia. These high-level beings came from the ten directions of the Dharma Realm; they were not mere celestial beings, but many venerable ones from the Buddha-lands. I could not help but sigh, wondering why I had not entered the Buddha-land sooner. These practitioners were truly remarkable to have achieved such a state.

After listening to the Dharma talks, I realised that the beings in this Land of Dharma Nature were all guided here by Practitioner Su, who brought the light of Namo Amituofo to lead them to the Western Land of Dharma Nature. The Buddha-light I had seen in the fourth heavenly realm was the light of Namo Amituofo. I looked at the great practitioner, Practitioner Su, and to my surprise, it was my master from all those years ago. Although our connection had lasted only a few short years, I was deeply grateful for his teachings and for the fact that he had helped me reach the heavenly realms.

Now, listening to my master’s Dharma talks again on this Land of Dharma Nature, I realise that I had been practising in the wrong direction. Meditation alone did not save others; it could not truly elevate one's spirit. At the time, I did not understand this. Relying on my small psychic abilities, I became proud, and my compassion faded. It was truly a great pity. My master’s meditative concentration can now traverse the universe. Seeing this during the Dharma assembly left me speechless. My master’s entire state of being is dedicated to saving others. Looking back at my own pride, I wasted over a thousand years. I have truly learned my lesson. My master says not to aim for the heavenly realms, but to go to the Western Pure Land, otherwise, one remains trapped in samsara. I understand now: the cycle of samsara is rooted in selfishness, while the selflessness of the Western Pure Land can transcend all space.

I knelt before the Buddha and repented. I made a vow to the Buddha to relearn the practice of selflessness. I now follow the daily practice here in the Land of Dharma Nature, and I look out at the world from time to time; it is much more convenient to observe the world from here than from the heavenly realms. Everyone is stuck on some piece of selfishness. In truth, if one lets go of that insignificant part, what lies before one is the infinite Western Pure Land. This is what I have come to understand about the West while here in the Land of Dharma Nature. The brightness of this land comes from the capacity of the heart, and the infinite golden light of the West comes from an infinitely vast heart. I have finally broken through my previous limitations.

I am so grateful that my master did not forget me. He remembered me meditating in the heavens, and after 1,300 years, I am finally able to continue my 'second lesson.' I am grateful for my master’s guidance. I am grateful to the great Namo Amituofo before me; the meditative concentration within this Buddha-name is unfathomably deep. I had overlooked it before, but now, seeing this Namo Amituofo, I immediately understand the inconceivable power of the Buddha-name’s meditative concentration. The Buddha’s smile is 'unmoved,' and I am learning to smile and chant the Buddha-name just as he does. I know that I am becoming more and more settled in my concentration. I hope everyone will believe in the profound power of this Buddha-name.

Namo Amituofo.

Zhu Changhe"